Mind stamina. Well I suppose that is true. Short, straightforward posts are undeniably the norm, because - let's be honest - many of us are sufficiently occupied with the current responsibilities in our lives. Majority of readers probably won't possess enough patience to make it through an entire entry of mine. But this only means that I express that much more appreciation towards those that are willing to make the effort.
It was time for a sanity break.
I was in dire need of exercise, specifically walking. Embarking on a downtown adventure while trying out the city's newest hype was essentially killing two birds with one stone.
The restaurant had a narrow entrance that paved the way to a few 2-person tables, backless stools, and dingy yellow lighting. The odd placement location for stairs puzzled me (at least they had railings), while the sheer absence of hooks caused me to heave a huge sigh before robbing the adjacent table for a spot to place my jacket. With no other available spot in sight, I plopped my bag beside the Kikkoman bottle, though made sure to make meticulous movements in fear of knocking the sodium-laden sauce all over.
My assumption is that they cater largely to those working in the area, since the dining area is seriously compact. Should lineups form within the establishment, there would be little to no breathing space. It was noticed that they participate in Ritual and foodora services.
The menu consisted of: Sushi Donuts ("Doshi") with choices of Salmon and Tuna (as well as less popular options such as Shrimp and Veggie), sushi burritos ("Rolls") with choices of Salmon, Tuna, Kimchi Beef, Shrimp, Chicken, and Veggie, Signature Squares, and Poke Bowls.
Derived from social media posts, it can assumed that poke bowls are the least popular, which is reasonable given the more unique selection of geometric sushi. The Signature Squares were very much reflective of their name, but regrettably not distinctive enough to impress.
It was essentially an attempt at halving oshizushi, but with minimal depth of flavour, poor compaction procedures, it left much to be desired for an item of equal preparation complexity.
Torched Squares, a trio that we relinquished an additional dollar to obtain, was an Aburi knockoff. While fresh, the fish lacked the thickness and fatty properties of Aburi-grade sashimi. When torched, the natural oils are supposed to seep into the underlying rice layer, supplying suppleness and a sophisticated flavour. In this scenario, the natural oils contained within the fish simply stayed put; torching was merely for visual points. As with the Signature Squares, the ratio of salmon/tuna to rice is extremely disappointing. It also happens that substituting tuna is an extra dollar.
Kale salad was satisfactory; sweet corn kernels and creamy dressing were tasteful additions. I expected coarse leaves of kale, though these were suprisingly easy to digest and retained flavour well. (But just WHY were there more taro chip shreds in the salad?! More deja vu.)
In contrast to the items we surveyed, service was exceptional: the girl behind the cashier was extremely friendly and welcoming. Her bright smile compensated for the lack of proper lighting, but only ever so slightly.
Square Fish provided disposable utensils, plastic containers for yellow pickled ginger (too spicy if you ask me) and wasabi. Yet oddly enough, the menu items were served on weighty marble boards and white ceramic containers. I can't say stairs, heavy serving boards, and fragile fusion creations are a combination that compliment each other too well.
Speaking solely for Combos and not individual orders, the prices were well-justified for the portion size, though flavour and originality were indefinitely lacking. I'm glad we chose the combos, as it's improbably I'll ever go back.
A final reminder: there are no bathrooms, so come prepared with wet wipes and avoid over-quenching.
Nohohon was awesome as always.
Since catching a glimpse of the Matcha Cafe's transformation into Uncle Tetsu BAKE, I had been eager to taste the results, in the most literal sense possible.
Cheese tarts were sold individually for $3.50 or packs of six for $17.50 as part of a Buy 5 Get 1 Free and no tax deal. It's uncertain whether this purchasing option will last as long as the madeleine deal did, but I sure hope it remains the next time I visit.
Uncle Tetsu eliminated all of my woes by presenting a compact, space-efficient design that skillfully embraced six regular-sized cheese tarts between two levels of separators. All the tarts were contained with minimal space for movement, ridding the fear of potential damage from accidental swinging. Resembling a high-tech travel makeup case, the design was practically foolproof. Best of all, it came with a durable, logo-embossed plastic bag with a ample handle space.
A little less lava-like than the former and a tad more mild in terms of richness than the latter, this 3-inch tart is the ultimate cheesy composition. Uncle Tetsu has done it once again.